It’s So My Mom.

It’s a silent, interior time bomb, akin to the one that kills one of Tom “Scientology” Cruise’s cohorts in the beginning of MI 3: The Mom bomb. That point in your life where some silent switch is turned on, and you suddenly manifest all the mannerisms, sayings and annoying habits of your mom (or dad). Everyone goes through it, to some degree.

So who’s gonna crack and offer the goods? I wanna know how you’re turning into your moms. I know you’re sick and tired about reading how it’s happening to me, because I know I’m sick of reading every other vanity blog. This one is supposed to be cathartic for everyone involved. Help me help you!

How’s this: I’ll share for others first, and then we can all go in a circle (goddammit).

Some information I extrapolated from my friends over Christmas:

One has just started bending like her mom. Says she used to hate how her mother would bend from the waist instead of the knees when picking something up, and now she catches herself doing the same thing.

Another other friend has found herself asking people questions without context. A conversation or idea will play through her head, and without any expositional reference, she’ll ask someone involved a question about it. Like: “Well did they?” No context offered.

I have a similar plight. I’ve developed my mom’s unnerving habit of asking questions the recipient could never answer. Questions like, “Well, what was going on inside his/her head?”

Or my favorite transaction, from last time I was in town:

“Jennifer, did you happen to throw away my salad fork last time you were here?”

“Why would I throw away your salad fork?”

“Well, I mean, accidentally.”